


We need a nurse, stat!

by la_bamba



Category: Coraline (2009)
Genre: Aged Up, F/M, Wybie is a mess, but he's so darn obvius, he's also a big ol softie, wybie has a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_bamba/pseuds/la_bamba
Summary: Wybie silently admires his best friend, but at what cost?





	We need a nurse, stat!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fic! I do a lot of writing but never published any of it so of course I choose an obscure, nearly dead fandom lmao.

Her hair was getting longer. Wybie happened to notice one chilly afternoon they spent in his makeshift workshop, which was really just the shed out behind the Pink House since Grandma Lovatt hated when Wybie experimented in their own garage. Fall was coming early this year. The leaves were already beginning to change their hues in the first few days of August and the air was becoming more brisk, less and less like summer every day.

  
He watched her scroll mindlessly through her phone while he tinkered with his motorbike and a guilty feeling settled in his chest. Wybie couldn’t possibly understand how she wasn’t bored out of her mind. She always insisted she wasn’t bothered spending long hours in the shed with him while he tampered with his machines whenever he asked, but he just couldn’t seem to believe her. He hated the feeling that she could be being dragged down here through some friendly obligation but every afternoon without fail she’d be there, sitting cross-legged on the ground or perched on the edge of his cluttered workbench. Every now and then she’d look up and shot him a soft smile of reassurance or even launch into a series of curious questions about his current projects.

  
Wybie appreciated these moments in their friendship. When they weren’t roughhousing or yelling or searching for slimy slugs. Of course, those times were good too, all moments were good if she was around, but the time spent in the shed was different. Comfortable silence filled the air between them as if all they needed to be happy was the mere presence of the other. It was during these quiet moments that Wybie could truly appreciate her beauty. 

  
How soft her pale skin looked, even though he held firsthand experience on the rough calluses on her palms and her cracked knuckles. The smattering of caramel colored freckles across her ivory cheeks and the bridge of her sweet button (poor choice of thoughts) nose, from long hours of tipping her face towards the sun. The old faded 'battle scars' on her long arms and legs, distant reminders of all their childhood adventures and accidents. Her expressive hazel eyes, how odd they looked when they weren’t twinkling with mischief. Her long slender fingers with their short, bitten down nails, typing swiftly against her phone screen. They were always cold, her hands. Wybie could never hear the end of her complaints, especially as the weather got cooler. More often than not, she would shove her hands in his pockets, her excuse being, 'Don't be dense Wybourne, you just generate more heat!' with her typical derisive eye roll.

Her navy blue locks, usually cut into a straight bob ghosted her ears, now long enough to brush against her shoulders and fall in front of her eyes. Every so often, she'd tilt her head and try to shake the indigo mane from in front of her vision. Her ends were uncut and split and her roots could be seen through the growth, soft chocolate brown.

  
Wybie had become so lost in the visage of his best friend that while his mind wandered so far away, his body continued its thoughtless actions. His hand kept twisting at a bolt in the motor of his bike. Twisting and twisting until it was so tight the metal pin exploded from its post, ricocheting off the motor and flying up to pop Wybie in the eye. Violent pain radiated from a spot just below Wybie’s eye and he couldn’t help a screech if agony. The sharp metallic ringing and Wybie’s cry of pain shattered the silence in the shed and Coraline looked up from her phone with a start. She gasped as she saw her friend clutching his face with both hands and she dropped her phone and rushed over to his side.

  
“Wybie! Are you alright? What the hell happened?” her voice tight with concern and if he hadn’t been in such excruciating pain, Wybie might have laughed from the unfamiliar tone in her voice. Instead, he could only groan and press his hands closer to his face. Coraline wrapped her hands around his wrists and attempted to tug them down.  
“Don’t put your hands on your face while you’re wearing these filthy gloves!” she snapped, and it did occur to Wybourne that he was still wearing his work gloves while touching a definite open wound on his face. He was quick to shuck the gloves, giving the bluenette a clear view of his injury. By her sharp intake of breath, he could guess it was ugly. Before Wybie could react, he felt himself being yanked to his feet, it was only then that he realized he has fallen to the ground when he was struck by the rogue bolt, and being quite forcibly dragged over to the workbench. 

  
Coraline swiped her arm across the bench, sending hundreds of blueprints, notebooks, and tools crashing towards the ground. The girl’s actions were faster then her best friends mouth because before he had even a second to complain Wybourne was pushed down on the bench and a rag was being shoved in his hands. Thankfully it was one of the few clean ones Wybie began keeping in the shed after his the insistence of a certain blue-haired girl that he might need a clean towelette one day. How right she had been.

  
“Stay right there,” the lanky blue haired teen commanded before she turned on her heel and marched right out of the shed’s doors. Wybie blinked once then twice, trying his best to comprehend the situation. He barely had time to truly contemplate before Coraline was back, her fingers clutching tightly around a first aid kit. Wybie sighed in relief. ‘Amazingly brilliant she was!’ he thought to himself, very pleased with how resourceful his girl was. Wait, his girl? Where had that come from? Coraline was far from his, or anybody’s for that matter. She was too much of a free spirit to belong to anyone. The term of endearment only he had heard still made Wybie feel hot under his collar, despite the chill of the autumn air. 

  
Thankfully, once again Coraline was moving too fast for Wybourne to have too much time to stew in his embarrassment and before he knew it, she had her skinny fingers wrapped around his wrist again, pulling the hand that held the rag against his face down slowly. She sucked in air through her teeth and her grimace said it all. ‘It must be bad’ Wybie thought grimly as he became aware of the warm thick liquid against his hot cheek that could only be blood. Coraline’s first move was to take a wet towelette and start to wipe up the blood until his cheek was damp and the wipe was soaked with red. She tossed it in the direction of the large industrial trash can and opened another packet, repeating the process until finally the gash seemed out of fresh blood and his face was clean. Around their feet was a mess of torn wipe packets and the discarded bloody wipes themselves. Wybie had become relaxed under her gentle strokes to his cheek but out of the corner of his eye, he caught her hand sneaking towards a familiar opaque bottle and he tensed immediately. Coraline could sense the change in his demeanor, even if it was silent and she groaned as if she was the one hurt.

  
“C’mon Wybie, just relax and let me help you, ya big slump. It’ll be as quick and painless as possible, trust me,” she bossed, no longer attempting stealth and snatched the bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the first aid kit. She opened the bottle and the sour smell filled the air almost instantaneously. Both of the teens' faces’ scrunched up but it was hardly foul enough to stop Coraline, who carefully poured a bit of the acidic liquid onto a cotton ball. The anticipation and dread made Wybie’s stomach knot and he leaned as far away as he could from the cotton ball of doom. This too did not slip his friend’s notice and she groaned again, her eyebrows furrowing a bit in obvious frustration.

  
“Don’t be such a baby, Why-were-you-born. The more you irritate me, the more it’ll hurt,” Coraline growled threateningly which somehow made Wybie even less willing to let her touch his face. Wybourne, finally locating his voice began to prattle off excuses.

  
“Ya know Jonesy, it’s probably not even that bad of a cut and it’ll heal no matter what so why bother? And I hear that stuff is actually really bad for cuts or whatever. Kills all the good germs too like the ones that make the scab so if anything you’d do more harm than good,” the dark skinned boy continued on like that for a while. Rambling nervously, trying to make his comments seem offhanded and unbothered but his voice and body language gave him away, both jittery and tense. The more he spoke, the less patience Coraline seemed to have until finally she huffed a great sigh, recapped the alcohol, and chucked the lethal cotton ball in the trash.

  
“Fine Wybourne! Just shut your trap and I’ll be back,” the girl sprung up from the position she held, on her knees in front of the bench and stomped out of the shed, in the similar fashion to early. She returned just as soon as she’d disappeared, this time with another washcloth, this one wet and a tiny bar of soap. Neither said a word as she returned to her spot and began to lather the cloth with the little soap. The gentle smell seemed to chase away the abrasive scent of alcohol and Wybie relaxed once more. Another peaceful stretch of silence settled between the two teens, as Coraline washed his wound with a gentleness Wybie hadn’t even known possible for the usually brash girl. Wybourne couldn’t help but fall back into the temptation to admire his freckled friend again. 

  
This was a whole new side to the Jonesy he knew and loved. The way she fussed over him now was almost... maternal! So different yet somehow so similar to her usual attitude, subdued and gentle in her own bossy way, it made Wybie’s cheeks go warm under her touch. Wybourne sent out a wordless thanks to genetics for his dark skin tone that successfully masked what could’ve been a brilliant flush across his face. Wybie was brought back to reality as the bluenette smeared a clear jelly across the gash, claiming it would heal it faster and the final step, carefully pressing a large white gauze band-aid over the cut. The two let out a breath in unison and Wybie sagged against the workbench in relief. His fingers prodded at the band-aid, which awoke a soreness in his cheek. The pain was reduced to a dull throbbing all patched up so he focused his attention on Jonesy, cleaning up the mess of first aid supplies.

  
“Thanks, Nurse Jonesy! Do I get a treat for being so brave?” Wybie teased lightly, a lopsided grin finding its way around his mouth. Coraline merely grumbled in response but turned around quickly, facing away from her best friend and Wybie was victorious in his quest to fluster his usually brazen bestie. Wybie felt near gleefully until Coraline whipped back around and walk right up to him so they were nose to nose and tilted her head the way he always did, a wordless challenge.

  
“I don’t know, Wybourne. Maybe you’ll get your treat when you tell me what had you distracted enough to pop a screw off your bike?” she raised a thin dark brown, her grin smug, and Wybie knew he had been caught.

  
Wybie felt like his face, nope his entire body, would burst into flames any second now. SHE KNEW! SHE HAD KNOWN HE WAS STARING, PROBABLY THE WHOLE TIME! What the hell was he going to do now? There was no way he could ever, in this life or the next, tell Coraline the truth. What would he even say? 

'Hey Jonesy, I'll tell ya what happened! I got so busy staring at you that an entire screw flew off my bike and attacked my face! Hope this doesn't creep you out but you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met!' Wybie could hardly keep his groan of mortification on the inside.

  
He'd have to off himself. Or drop out of school and run away. Wybie was sure that not even his skin tone could save him from the mortifying flush spreading across his face and creeping down his neck. The awkward teen felt choked up and his eyes darted everywhere around the small shed. Everywhere, of course, except for the scrutinizing gaze. The silence was starting to suffocate Wybourne and he felt damn near close to passing out. It felt like the buildings of a panic attack.

  
His thoughts were racing 100 fucking miles a second and he was starting to feel genuinely dizzy. The poor boy was jerked out of his torturous reverie finally, at the suddenly sound of a very familiar exasperated groan. His eyes snap forward and lock onto Coraline's sharp amber eyes. She then rolled those captivating orbs skyward. Having known the sarcastic teen for so long, Wybie was almost positive he could hear her thoughts in that moment and to him it sounded a lot like, 'Good god Why-were-you-born, why are you absolutely hopeless?' 

  
The skinny blue haired girl suddenly shot up, leaning over Wybie like a looming figure. The more random, small part of Wybie's brain cataloged one useless tidbit then. This was, funnily enough, the only occasion she'd be taller than him in. They both had grown over the years and Wybie had finally grown into all of his awkward gangling features. His height spiked, which annoyed his best friend to no end. For the billionth time in one afternoon, Wybourne Lovatt let his thoughts cloud his focus, up until Coraline's cold hands framed both sides of his face and yanked his face to hers. She smashed her lips against his and fireworks exploded in Wybie's head. Her lips were chapped from the cold but they tasted vaguely like strawberry chapstick and Wybie decided then and there, strawberries were his new favorite fruit. The kiss felt so much like her, rough and new, shy but bold, assertive but so goddamn sweet.

  
The one who initiated the kiss was the one to end it and Coraline separating their lips. Wybourne heart pounded wildly against his chest and Coraline's breath came out in short pants like his own. Her own cheeks were covered with a dusty blush and her eyes seemed glassy and distracted. Her freckles seemed to stand out twice as much under the soft pink of her blush, such a rare sight to see, Wybourne was quick to take a mental picture to save in his head forever.

  
"I like you too, ya big dummy," her voice was soft, lowered to a timid whisper. If Wybie's heart wasn't soaring before, it definitely was now. He couldn't even form a full sentence in response, stuttering and stumbling over his words like an idiot. Coraline just snickered and brushed her cool fingers over his heated cheeks. Wybie finally gave up on words, which had done nothing but fail him all afternoon, and let his actions speak for him. He put his large, gloved hands on her tiny waist and tugged her closer, craning his head up to meet his lips to her once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo,,,, i kinda hate how the ending just drops off but i lost steam in my writing getting closer to the end and i feel like it kinda sucks but it's fine ig. Hope you guys enjoyed!! :P


End file.
